the beau's songs to helen (not of troy). 4.

yes, i say i wrote all i wrote so you know how i love
you, what madness i withhold standing sobercool smiling
to charm fronting you; [i still wonder when we embrace will/
do we jigsaw perfectly each others spaces apt as
custom made as a tree and its shadow just before and
just after noon (at noon from between your feet like vines, up)]

*

i write poetry / love you poetically, take yr reasons
as no more than keeping on the smock in face of me e’en
though the wind could suddenly up it & climb everest
could tornado wrench smock up imprisoning your arms
with the strong blow gusted upward yr nakedness present,
is presented to my lust love and you feel me right close
in front of your face with my arms coming up over you
but i gently pull the smock down off your face hold your face and kiss you like i could never let go, and the smock drops
like a curtain down and i’m still kissing you now so so
tenderly you’d think me kissing the tenderest parts just
curtained from me and i hold you close in quiet feeling
as much as could, close encounter, let, you now inside ’gin
the tabernacle returned until as the euchrist placed
all upon my tongue:
……………………………i shall poetry love and love and love…, until you put yourself between poetry and me inter
rupting its constant cascading outpouring like a flesh
of lightening also disproving that misspellings write lies

the beau's songs to helen (not of troy). 4.

juddarwin

Joined June 2009

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Artwork Comments

  • Danica Radman
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